


Sugar and Spice

by SpaceCadetGlow



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/F, Forced Feminization, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Rule 63, Switching, Vaginal Fingering, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4670030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCadetGlow/pseuds/SpaceCadetGlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rule 63 Nelly/HJ.  For a switching scene, Nelly ties HJ up and makes her wear girly lingerie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar and Spice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Watchmen kinkmeme, which exists in its current iteration here: http://watchmen-km.dreamwidth.org/287.html. If you enjoy this story, please leave a comment; feedback makes my day!

"I'm going to untie one arm at a time," Nelly says sweetly, "so I can get this pretty thing on you without any problems." 

Romy eyes the brassiere darkly. It's pink with cream-colored lace, to match the delicate panties that are already stretched tight around her hips, and the silk stockings attached with lacy garters. 

"That's alright, I only need one hand to make you come," she says, injecting a slight threat into the suggestion. She can't help it, it's only natural for her when she and Nelly fuck. 

But not for tonight. Without missing a beat, Nelly tugs on the delicate silver chain which connects to her favorite set of nipple clamps. Romy has only been wearing them for a few minutes, and already she feels uncomfortably tender. Nelly's motion pulls at Romy's aching nipples, making her hiss with pain.

" _Without_ any problems," Nelly reiterates, her eyes piercing into Romy's. Only when Romy nods and breaks the stare does Nelly release the chain.

Nelly stretches her lithe, naked body forward to undo the knot which binds Romy's left hand to the headboard. Of course Romy won't resist, that's not the point tonight. But it's all Romy can do to keep her hand from reaching out to touch Nelly's soft skin. One strap of the brassiere slides down her arm, and the knot is secured again. Nelly repeats the motions on the other side, this time having to lean across Romy's body to reach the knot. It's not fair, the way Nelly's perfect fucking tits hang right in front of Romy's eyes, all that smooth white skin and the sweet pink peaks so close, yet completely out of reach. When Nelly draws back, she's smiling. She knows exactly what she's doing.

Nelly's deft hands slip under Romy's back and fasten the brassiere in place. It's not a perfect fit -- most women aren't built like Romy is -- but with a coy little smile, Nelly eases Romy's breasts into the cups, giving them a little squeeze for good measure before pulling back. Romy would like to wipe the pretty little smile off her lover's face.

The ridiculous pads push up what little Romy has, spreading the discomfort of the clamps all the way through her tits. The creamy lace looks almost comical against her tanned skin, where inked tigers and stars, serpents and women twist around her body. She stares down, where an arabesque motif on her right breast peeks out from under the lace. She feels foolish, feels horribly fake. But Nelly looks down at her, offering a real, dazzling smile this time.

"Aren't you a pretty little thing?" she purrs, leaning down to kiss Romy, and stopping just millimeters shy of her lips, one hand resting gently on Romy's throat -- a warning. Romy can feel Nelly's tits brushing against her skin, and the warm tickle of Nelly's breath at her mouth. The instant Nelly touches her lips to Romy's, she's already pulling back. "You still need a little something more, though."

Romy closes her eyes and tries to ignore the way the lacy panties rub against her clit, tries to ignore how wet she's become. "You're a filthy fucking tease, Eleanor Gardner."

"You gonna do something about it?" Nelly says, and kisses Romy on the cheek, flashing her a wink as she withdraws to her vanity table. She comes back with her hands overflowing with powders, rouges, lipsticks. Romy scowls. She wears stage makeup out of necessity at work, so her features can be seen from the top seats at Sackson and Shanley's Big Top. But outside of work, she would never paint herself for men's eyes. Her very body is an expression of who she is, something she can't remove at night or change to suit her company. She won't change herself for anyone.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it," says Nelly, settling down so she's straddling Romy's stomach, and suddenly the makeup is forgotten. It's all Romy can do to resist arching up to feel more of Nelly's slick wetness against her skin. She wants to taste it, slide her fingers in and feel Nelly writhe around her.

Then she feels the first soft touch against her cheek. Nelly is putting rouge on her face, a rich bronze color from what she can see on the brush. This is really happening, and all she can think to say is, "That's not yours."

"Of course not, this would look awful on me."

"So why are you putting it on me?" Romy says, reviled.

Nelly sighs. "Darling, if you haven't noticed, your skin tone is much darker than mine. We can't wear the same shades."

" _Mein Gott_."

"Just trust me." After using the large, fluffy brush, she puts it neatly into a little case, and chooses a smaller one. "This is for your eyes," Nelly explains. "You have the most wonderful hazel flecks in your eyes, and this will really bring them out." She shows Romy the little jar of powder, somewhere between olive green and gold. "Close your eyes."

Romy does. This is humiliating enough -- tied up, wearing ridiculous lingerie, and made up, all while being tantalized by the most beautiful woman she's ever met -- without having to see it happen. And she knows Nelly, damn her, is going to make her look at herself when it's done.

"I'm going to put some liner on now." Romy has had to put kohl on her eyes many times at work, quick and messy. Nelly's lines are slow and precise, well-practiced after many years of dolling herself up for God-knows-who. "Open."

Nelly is smiling as she assesses her work. "Mascara," she says, wielding the small tube. "Make sure you don't blink."

Easier said than done. Romy is determined not to blink, because if she does and the makeup smears, she won't put it past Nelly to remove it all and start over. In fact, she keeps her eyes so firmly wide open that they start to water.

"You crying, baby?" 

"I'm _not_ fucking crying and you know it." 

"We don't have to stop. It's okay to cry if you need to."

"You would know, _Heulsuse_." 

"I'm not even going to ask you what that means, because I'm sure I won't like it," Nelly sniffs. "There, all done with that. Last," she says, rummaging through her little pile of torture implements, "lipstick. Isn't this such a pretty shade? It's going to look beautiful on you, not to mention smeared all over me." It's a deep wine color, and the idea of seeing it smeared across Nelly's mouth and tits is so enticing that she doesn't complain as the lipstick goes on. 

"That should do it for makeup," Nelly announces, leaning back. "Now lift your head."

"What for?"

"You can't be a real lady with that crew cut, silly." She produces a box, which turns out to contain a wig -- dark brown hair which tumbles down from Nelly's hands in soft curls. The last time Romy had long hair, she was a child taking care of her drunkard mother. She'd hacked it all off when she ran away at fifteen, hoping no one would recognize her and make her go back to the place which had never been home. She doesn't like the idea of having long hair, hair that can be grabbed and pulled out. It's a danger. It made you vulnerable.

She closes her eyes as Nelly fits the netting around her close-cropped head and sets it into place. She can feel Nelly's fingers combing the curls over her shoulders.

"That looks so nice… but what you really need is some sparkle. Oh!" She reaches behind her neck and unclasps the necklace she always wears, a simple, single diamond on a gold chain. Romy had given it to her a few months ago. Romy could never decide which memory was more dear to her: the way Nelly's face lit up when she opened the gift, or the horror of the salesman when all six feet of her stalked into the jewelry store.

Nelly connects the chain behind Romy's head, under all that _hair_. "There you go. Perfect." She kisses Romy full on the lips, and Romy leans up, hungry to taste that sweet, hot mouth. When Nelly finally pulls away, her lips are stained dark with the makeup, and she grins at the look on Romy's face.

Carefully, Nelly climbs off her and gathers her supplies up again, replacing them on the vanity. She makes a great show of thinking hard, then drags the whole vanity at an angle so the mirror faces the bed. "Can you see yourself? Tell me when you can." She tilts the mirror down, and dear God, Romy can see herself. The lingerie stretches over her muscles, turning her into something she is not. 

"Look," says Nelly, coming back with a hand mirror. Romy barely recognizes herself. Thick dark hair frames her face, almost obscuring the tattoos on her neck. She's never worn real makeup in her life, and the dramatic makeup Nelly applied makes her look like a prostitute. She says so, but Nelly seems to like that.

"Maybe you're my whore tonight, hmm?" she breathes, her blue eyes sparkling. She stretches out over Romy, pale and soft and so, so beautiful. "Spread out for me, going to do whatever I say." 

Romy has said far, far more explicit things when Nelly has been the one tied down like this, so it must be the getup that's making her flush furiously. "Does that mean you're going to pay me when this is all over?" she says through clenched teeth.

Nelly laughs quietly. "You don't need that, darling," she says, crawling slowly up the length of Romy's body. "You let me do this to you because you want it." For one excruciating moment she pauses, but finally lowers with her beautiful tits right in Romy's face. Romy's tongue darts out to taste them, followed by sharp nips with her teeth. Nelly's skin is still marked dark red here and there, fading love bites from their last time together. Romy loves claiming her like that, reminding Nelly who she belongs to, and when Nelly pulls away she can see another mark starting to form. No -- that's the lipstick coming off, deep red against rosy pink. 

Her mouth is captured in a deep kiss, and then Nelly is moving again, now coming down to straddle her face. With a sound of approval, Romy flicks her tongue up to Nelly's clit, playing with it for a moment before letting the very tip of her tongue slide along the wet slit. Under normal circumstances, she would never allow Nelly to take this position with her, but she's not really herself tonight, and right now it's just what she needs. Nelly moans at the sensation so she goes deeper, slowly letting her tongue work inside. Romy is in control for now, but that will soon pass, so she's determined to enjoy it. Nelly is already trembling with every motion of Romy's tongue. Romy tries not to think of her own clit, brushing sensitively against her lace panties, as she licks and sucks at Nelly's. 

"Baby, you look so good like this," Nelly gasps, unable to wait any longer. Suddenly Romy's entire world consists only of Nelly -- her slick pussy pressing down against her lips, the heady scent of her, the soft golden curls brushing her nose, her strong thighs on either side, and those luscious tits bouncing as Nelly rides her face. One of Nelly's hands goes to the headboard, and the other comes down to stroke herself in quick, sharp motions. Romy watches her face as she comes, contorted with need and lust and finally satiation, feeling the tremors go through her lover's entire body. 

When Nelly comes she always forgets to move for a few seconds while she catches her breath, but that's fine. Romy loves the feel of Nelly atop her like this, treating her in this way, Nelly's sweet pussy all but dripping onto her face.

At last, Nelly comes back to herself and carefully climbs off. Romy can't help but notice the deep red lipstick stains where her mouth had been. She can't resist glancing over at the mirror to see what she looks like. The lip color is smeared messily around her mouth, her lips swollen and wet. How many times has she seen Nelly's face like this, smeared with a deceptively innocent pink lipstick? To see herself that way fascinates and repulses Romy. She needs release, and needs it soon, but Nelly is still just gazing down at her, trailing perfectly manicured fingertips along her collarbone. Romy tugs at her bonds in frustration but refuses to beg Nelly for anything.

Of course Nelly has never minded begging, but she knows well what it's like to have pleasure denied, and clearly doesn't mind being on the other side of things. Pure mischief dances in her eyes as she gently turns Romy's head to lay a soft kiss on her jaw. Again, Romy strains against the rope and wiggles her hips, the slight roughness of the lace panties only providing enough friction to make her even wetter. Nelly trails kisses down her neck, too soft, too gentle. Romy clenches her pelvic muscles, seeking any sensation at all, and squeezes her eyes shut. She won't whimper or whine, nothing so feminine, no matter how instinctively the sound rises in her throat. 

The first kiss lands at the top of her breasts, tender mercy on her sore flesh. Nelly dips her tongue under the fabric of the brassiere, finding Romy's clamped nipple. She finds the end of the silver chain and begins to wind it around her hand, pulling ever tighter on the clamps. The dull, spreading pain immediately becomes sharp and piercing, and then melts away in the warmth of Nelly's mouth as she pulls back the brassiere to lap and suckle around the clamp. It's a torture unlike anything she's ever experienced, the amazing feeling of Nelly's lips and tongue melding right into the pain. Then Nelly removes the clamp and sucks long and hard, with just a hint of teeth. The warm feeling inexplicably spreads through Romy's whole body, and suddenly she's trembling, a single low moan escaping her lips. She's left gasping and sweating and in shock.

"Did you…?" Nelly asks, equally surprised, then grins as she figures out the answer to her own question. "Has that ever happened before?"

"No," Romy breathes, feeling too good to be cross anymore. 

"Maybe we should make a habit of this." Nelly gently rubs at Romy's breast, easing the lingering soreness away. 

"Shut up and keep going."

"Don't forget who's in charge here," Nelly chides, but removes the other clamp and massages the pain away there as well.

Romy rolls her aching shoulders, arching up towards her lover. Nelly plants one last kiss, and begins to work her way downward. Her lips cross one inked image after another; a rose and thorns, a sprawling, clawing dragon, a burning tree under the moon. Lower still, where the tattoos can't completely cover her scars. Nelly nips at her inner thigh, and exhales, warms and soft, against the fabric covering her pussy. 

"You smell good," says Nelly playfully. "Look good too."

She can't handle any more games, not when she's already come, and hoping to do so again at least once more. "Take them off of me already." 

"My, someone sounds desperate." 

Romy shakes her head, barely believing Nelly's gall. "Bitch. Just you wait till next time. I'll have you limping for a week."

Nelly cocks an eyebrow. "Next time? What's to say I won't just leave you here?" She runs her tongue along the edge of the lace crotch, one side and then the other. Casually, she begins rubbing at Romy's clit through the lace. "Who do you think would find you first? The landlord, maybe? Or I could always ask Brynn to drop by." 

Romy resists the urge to crush Nelly's head between her thighs. It's all part of the game, she reminds herself. "You wouldn't."

"You're right, maybe Edie would be the better choice." Still, those slim fingers move against her, so close but not yet in contact with her skin. "Who would you prefer? Imagine what they would say, seeing Hooded Justice like this?"

She chooses that moment to slid her fingers under the panties and inside Romy, two fingers at once, and deep inside her. Romy tells herself that was all that made her moan out loud.

"I don't know if that would be their exact reaction," Nelly says. "Maybe Brynn's. Do you think she'd like it? I know she likes butch types. I've changed in front of Billie before, and her underthings are nowhere as lovely as yours." 

God, Nelly was going to get it. Romy would like nothing better than to force that pretty pink mouth to stop talking and start eating her out, but she just won't shut up, even as her fingers work slowly in and out.

"So maybe not Brynn. Edie's an utter cockwhore, but I know she'd get a real kick out of this." Nelly circles Romy's clit with her thumb, sending an extra jolt of pleasure through her. "I doubt she'd be able to stop laughing, but of course she couldn't pass up the chance to torment you. She'd be smoking one of those disgusting cigars… where do you think she'd put it out?" 

Romy's cheeks are burning furiously. "Are you sure you haven't fantasized about this?"

Ignoring the petulant question, Nelly settles down between her thighs. "Your neck, under all that pretty hair? Or on your chest?" Her breath ghosts against Romy's skin. "Or right… here?" She lays a kiss upon the seam where Romy ends and Nelly begins. Romy bites down on a moan which has long been threatening to escape. She shouldn't be getting off on this torture, but Nelly is too good, frighteningly good. _You can't be a fervent sub for so long without picking up a few tricks,_ Romy thinks, and then she can't think at all, because Nelly's tongue is now lapping at her, slick and warm. Stretching fingers, hot mouth, the persistent ache in her arms, the soft slide of satin and lace, and before she knows it, the second wave is washing over her. She clamps down around Nelly's fingers, rolling her hips in time with them. Completely by accident, she turns her head to the side and sees herself in the vanity's mirror, laid out like some kind of harlot, and it sends one last surge through her body. It seems to go on forever, all that reluctant pleasure that built up is now coming to fruition, blossoming, exploding, and leaving her exhausted. 

"Fuck," she says. She opens her eyes to see Nelly rising, and licking Romy's juices off her fingers. Nelly crawls up to kiss her tenderly. 

"Untie me, my arms are about to fall off," Romy murmurs.

"I wasn't joking about leaving you here," Nelly says. "I've got Edie's number by the phone already."

"Go ahead," says Romy good-naturedly. "Let her see what a terrible person you are."

Laughing, Nelly unties the ropes and works the soreness out of her lover's body, then coaxes her out of bed and into the shower, where everything can wash away.


End file.
